This is a song about "More"

We never tattle, let god handle that

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

The more i rap the more i kill , the more i kill the more it became a thrill

Isn't a right its more of a decision. haters like gators hating me till

You could give a fuck more

She leave her hair on the floor

Got four underneath the old-school as well

I killed more time, more crack to sell

And there's little to be glad for

Maybe we shoulda listened more

I ain't happy with the score

// [you (don't hurt me no more)]

When i have so much more

I got soul, there's more in store